


Receiver of Many

by PaperPlaneChemTrails



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Slice of Life, Vignette, and I don't have to justify why, but also colossally unobservant, everyone at the BAU is a great detective, sugar daddy vibes but just a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26059831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperPlaneChemTrails/pseuds/PaperPlaneChemTrails
Summary: There are a lot of things to notice about Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, but no one at the BAU seems to have caught on.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 25
Kudos: 112





	1. Mandatory Training

**Author's Note:**

> Something with a shorter format and lighter tone. Probably won't be updating super consistently, just wanted something easy and fun to work on when I need a break from the end of the world. No beta because I'm a disaster person

It started innocently enough. 

There had been a mandatory training seminar that Thursday for FBI auxiliary employees, and because Jack was the head of a department that had more than its fair share of people that fell into that nebulous category, he was obligated to attend as well. He sat behind Dr. Lecter and Will Graham in an uncomfortable folding chair, watching the fourth slideshow about the many potential pitfalls in the federal overtime policy. 

Will was slouched down into his seat, arms crossed and foot absently tapping now and then. Dr. Lecter was still and relaxed beside him, posture perfect and effortless under his suit jacket. 

Packets were passed out, some worksheets on how to accrue PTO, and Jack only glanced at his before dropping it into the seat beside him. Will was rummaging through his pockets, grumbling under his breath. 

“Are you missing something, Will?” Dr. Lecter asked. 

“I thought I had a pen.” He answered absently. 

“Here, have mine.”

Will looked up as Dr. Lecter reached into the sleek bag at his feet and produced a dark green enamel and brass pen.

“Thanks.” Will took it, made a few notes on the back of his packet, and offered the pen back to Dr. Lecter. 

“Keep it. I am sure you will need one for the rest of the day.”

Will blinked, brows drawing together. “Oh, no. This is a really nice pen. I’d hate to just take it.”

“I insist.” Dr. Lecter said, and Jack could’ve sworn his voice dropped, just a touch. 

“Uh - OK. Thank you.” Will said, looking down at the pen in his hand. 

Dr. Lecter bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment, then they both turned their attention back to the presentation. Jack did his best to focus as well, but the material was poorly conveyed besides being incomprehensibly formatted and he found his attention wandering. Twice he noticed Will looking down at the pen in his hand, idly spinning it between his fingers, and once he noticed Dr. Lecter noticing as well. 

Eventually they broke for lunch. Jack barreled out of the room, desperate to stretch his legs and look at anything that wasn’t a spreadsheet, and so did not notice that Will and Dr. Lecter lingered for a while in their seats as everyone else dispersed around them.


	2. Outside Boston

The next time anyone noticed anything was over a series of apparent drowning victims in a morgue outside Boston. The BAU had been called out to assist the investigation, and Beverly Katz was collecting samples from the fourth body discovered in the Mystic River that month while Jack and Will discussed the profile and possible motives. Painfully predictable - male, aged 25-40, hatred towards women, likely to work on or near the river, blah blah blah. Will was annoyed that he had flown out because there weren’t any scenes for him to work with, just the river and the victims, and Jack was convinced that Will was trying to shirk his obligations. Beverly wasn’t really listening, plucking at fibers caught in the woman’s clothing, when Dr. Lecter strolled into the morgue. 

Jack was clearly caught off guard. “Dr. Lecter. I was told you weren't able to be here until tomorrow.”

“I was able to shift some appointments and catch an earlier flight.” He looked between Jack and Will, then idly towards the bodies. “How can I help?”

They launched into the whole spiel again and Dr. Lecter dutifully listened, nodding along as Jack brought him up to speed. Will seemed less and less interested, wandering away from the two of them to look at another one of the drowned women. 

“What’s this in her hand?”

Bev looked up, Jack and Dr. Lecter swiveling to look as well. Will had pried apart the woman’s right hand, revealing a wadded up piece of paper. 

Bev took over, swatting Will away and peeling the material from the waterlogged flesh with forceps. “Looks like something handwritten. Phone number, maybe. We’ll have to dry it out.”

“What do you need to make it legible, Katz?” Jack asked.

“I can try a microwave, but a low heat kiln would work best to get it stable enough to unwrap. Even if we can’t read it, I can analyze the components and figure out where it’s from.”

“I’ll ask about a kiln.” Jack turned and left the morgue, doors swinging behind him.

Bev bent back over her work, “Nice catch, Will.”

“You’d have found it eventually.”

“But you have given Ms. Katz a head start on deciphering the note, whatever it may be.” Dr. Lecter cut in. “A step closer to finding this killer.”

Will opened his mouth to argue, but was stopped by a yawn before he could start.

“Go grab some dinner and get back to the hotel. Jack had him walking up and down that riverbank for hours.” Bev said, addressing the last part to Dr. Lecter.

“I would expect no less from Agent Crawford. I would be happy to give you a ride, Will. My rental car is just outside.”

Will tilted his head, taking in Lecter’s stiff posture. “I can get one of the guys here to call me a cab.”

“I insist.” Dr. Lecter said, consonants pinging out from between his teeth in a way that even made Beverly want to stand up straighter.

Will appeared unimpressed, arching a brow even as he gestured for Dr. Lecter to lead the way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bev.” He called over his shoulder as Lecter held the door for him.

“Bright and early! We’ve got more mud to dredge!”

She didn’t get the chance to see Dr. Lecter hold every door between the morgue and the late night bistro he ferried Will to before eventually dropping him off at the hotel.


	3. Atlantic City

Alana had a suspicion that she wasn’t supposed to have been included on this trip, but wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth; especially when that horse came in the guise of an incredibly high end Atlantic City casino. The drinks alone were worth the time away from her actual work. 

“Why are we here again?” She stage whispered to Will, who sat unconvincingly playing a slot machine beside her.

“Jack needs eyes around the floor until this mob guy shows up.”

“You didn’t pay attention in the briefing either.”

“I did, but it wasn’t worth retaining.” He pulled at the lever, frowning at it when he lost again. “We can’t exactly open fire in here, and in all likelihood he’s already sniffed us out.”

She nodded sagely. “How much money have you put into that thing?”

He sighed. “Forty bucks.”

They sat for another hour, receiving periodic updates from their earpieces and nursing their drinks. Finally word came down that the target had indeed suspected that something was amiss and tried to flee to a private airport, only to be apprehended en route. A cheer went up from those in the know, and soon Alana was well on her way to intoxicated with Will right beside her. 

A familiar face parted the crowd, heading towards them in a dark suit more subdued that he usually favored. It made his coloring and features stand out starkly in the low, twinkling light.

“Hannibal!” Alana laughed, sliding out of her seat. “Don’t tell me they roped you into this too!”

“I am always available to contribute to the greater good.”

Will snorted into his drink. “Such as it is.”

She waved him off. “Will’s just mad that he lost seventy five dollars to a slot machine with talking coconuts on it.”

Hannibal blinked. “I was not aware that you enjoyed gambling, Will.”

“I have learned this evening,” He said, a glint in his eye that Alana couldn’t attribute to the conversation, “that I like it even less than I remembered.”

“May I suggest a more worthwhile diversion?”

“This town has gambling or drinking to offer, Dr. Lecter, and we’ve established the one I’m good at.”

“You could try your hand at a different game, perhaps. I believe you would find more luck at games of skill rather than chance.”

Will and Alana exchanged a glance. “I am almost afraid to ask.”

“He is very good at poker. Too good. Freakishly good.” Alana confided, smiling at Hannibal as he looked at them serenely. “Nobody can even guess if he has a tell, much less what it could be.”

“Is that so.” Will drawled.

“It’s a shakedown. He’ll have us both down to nothing but our socks by the end of the night.”

“Alana, I promise you have nothing to worry about.” Hannibal said. “Will? What do you say?”

“Well, if you’re going to insist.”

They headed to one of the many tables, Hannibal steering them to a quieter section of the casino floor. Will ordered fresh drinks, though Hannibal did not touch his after giving it a dubious sip. Alana made it a couple of hands before she was out of money and too tipsy to keep her attention on her cards. She said goodnight and made her way to the front to share a cab with the last of the lingering bureau agents. She did not notice Will hook his ankle around the leg of Hannibal’s chair and tug him closer, muttering something about microexpressions into his ear.


End file.
